could you possibly do an aster blurb where its harry that gets really clingy🥺 i love the way aster!y/n seeks him out but I would love to see how harry reacts when hes not getting the attention he usually does from her🥺 i imagine him like a kitten or a puppy just following her all around and pining for her attention🥺
its soft hours🥺
—————
"What are you all smiley about, lovebug?"
Harry pressed a kiss to the top of (Y/N)'s head as he settled onto the couch beside her. He slung an arm around her shoulders, a smile matching her's on his face as she cuddled into his side instinctually. She locked her phone and dropped it into her lap before looking up to him with her wide eyes and bubbly smile.
"Nothing, Sarah just sent a funny picture in the group chat," she answered, reaching for his free hand to hold in both of hers.
"Y'guys have a group chat without me?" Harry pressed, a teasing pout on his face.
"No, its just Sarah and a couple of girls from the library. We've been talking a lot lately, it's been nice." (Y/N) held a bashful smile on her face as she spoke, gaze trained on their joined hands, "We've been talking about doing something all together soon."
"Yeah? What've y'got planned?" Harry asked, elated knowing that she was branching out a bit more in her comfort zone. As much as he wanted to be in a part of every corner of her life, he was happy to know that she had more friends than just their little group and was getting more comfortable with herself.
(Y/N) slightly shrugged beside him, her fingers tracing the tattoos on the backs of his hands. "They want to have a girls' night, but I don't think I really know what that means," she ended with a smile, one that only Harry could pick up on the curl of sadness at the very edge of her lips.
Harry flipped his palm up under her hold, delicately wrapping his fingers around hers. "Depends," he started, "Y'guys could go out and drink and have fun that way,"—(Y/N)'s features scrunched up at that idea, still not comfortable doing those kinds of things without Harry with her—"Or y'could all get together and watch movies or talk, whatever y'want to do, jus' no boys allowed I think."
"The second one sounds more fun," she settled, mimicking the smile on Harry's face.
"Tell them that, and maybe y'could invite everyone over here. We could fix up the guest room, I'll clean up all m'stuff and I'll leave y'alone for the night while y'hang out in there?" Harry offered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.
A smile bloomed on (Y/N)'s features, one that molded her features to carry softened edges and rounded curves. Her eyes were bright and excited, matching the way she practically bounced in her seat as she looked up at him. "Really? You'd let me invite them over here?" Her tone was animated as she spoke.
"'Course," he simplified, "If that's what y'wanted, then, of course."
She slipped her hand out from his, Harry immediately missing the warmth though he couldn't feel too upset when he saw how she excitedly she scooped up her phone. "I'll text them and see if they might want to this weekend!" She began tapping away at the screen before she paused, "If that's okay."
Harry was quick to nod, letting her know it was definitely okay with him before she lost any of her gusto over the idea. "I gave myself this Friday night off since I worked those doubles, so if y'wanted to invite everyone over then?"
(Y/N) happily agreed, resuming the tapping at her phone. Harry settled his arm over her shoulder, the black of his fingernails tracing over the bare skin of her arm showcased by the short sleeves of her shirt. He felt a matching bubble of elation settle in his system, working its way through his bloodstream as he could practically feel the excitement of the girl beside him.
He knew his offer alone was something that meant a lot to her, knowing just how limited her exposure and time with friends was growing up. She shared once that she'd never even been allowed to spend the night away from home, especially not with anyone from school or that her parents didn't personally select for her to spend time with. When she moved in with Sarah, that was the first time she had stayed away from her parents in her entire life. Those small facts and insights into who she was before him, broke little bits of his heart. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like to be so tethered to the same people she wanted nothing more than to get away from, even if for only a night. So, he didn't blame her exorbitant amount of excitement at even just the prospect of having a girls' night, even if he had to explain the ground rules to her.
"They said they can come by at six on Friday!" She bounced in her seat beside him, Harry able to see a flood of exclamation points ending her message on her phone.
Now, all Harry had to do was find it in himself to clean up the spare bedroom. Maybe he should have told her next week.
—————
"Are y'excited?"
(Y/N) practically jumped at the sound of his voice. She was trying her best to pretend she wasn't as antsy as she was, having been flitting about Harry's home as soon as she came by after class. He had stayed true to his word, having cleared out the spare bedroom with the space now actually resembling a bedroom and not a storage closet. (Y/N) was taking her time to make it perfect for the night, fretting over small details Harry hadn't even considered. There was still another forty-five minutes or so before anyone was set to arrive, but (Y/N) didn't seem to have any plans of slowing down for even a moment.
"Mhm," she hummed, fluffing the extra duvet on the bed, making something akin to a nest out of the bedding. She didn't offer any other information, brushing through the sentiment without tracing her eyes to where Harry stood leaning against the doorframe to the room.
"(Y/N)?" he started, conscious of the way he was calling out her name instead of one of the tender pet names he had donned her as. He needed to talk to her seriously and ensure she was okay and her behavior wasn't anything more than the result of nerves.
She stopped in her tracks at the sound of his voice, stopping her fretting hands. "Yeah?" she peeped, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
"Are y'okay?" He felt his own features soften as he took in her visage. Each of her anxious ticks were at play with her fumbling fingertips picking at the fresh nail polish she applied yesterday, and her anxious shifting of her weight from one foot to the other.
"Yeah, just want everything to be perfect," she simplified, giving him what was barely a trace of a smile as opposed to the bubbly grin she had been gifting him with previously.
"Love, 's jus' your friends, even Sarah's coming. Everything's gonna be okay, don't know why you're getting so worried." He spoke softly as he rounded the bed frame to reach out for her. "What's got you all upset, hm?" he prompted, collecting her in his arms with his palms settling over her hips. She trained her gaze on the ink of the chest piece that trailed out of the neckline of his shirt, the vined rose bush taking her attention. She only shrugged her shoulders at him, keeping her hands to herself to continue to pick at the polish.
Harry sighed, knowing she was starting to curl in on herself and let her racing mind decide the course of the night before it had even begun. One of his hands abandoned its spot on her hip, tucking his knuckles under her chin to tip her face up to make contact with her eyes. She looked to him with big, worried eyes, the gaze he knew a little too well. The pad of his thumb brushed along the line of her jaw as a soft smile tugged at his lips.
"You know 'm gonna be here the whole night, yeah? If y'need me, 'm only a wall away. But, I know you're going to have so much fun, yeah? Probably going to forget all about me as soon as you're all holed up in here," he spoked gently, his tone lighthearted as to try and draw her from whatever headspace had dragged her under.
Despite his efforts, (Y/N)'s lips stayed in a lamented line. "I just want everyone to have fun, and I don't even know what I'm doing."
"You're putting too much pressure on yourself, darling," his hand under her chin shifted as he spoke, moving to cradle her cheek in his palm, "We've had people over before, haven't we? The first time we met, you and Sarah hosted that night at your apartment, remember? You've done this before, jus' because it has a different name doesn't mean anything's different, yeah?"
"I know," she peeped, wilting in his arms, "I'm just... nervous."
A sad sort of smile tugged at Harry's lips. "I know, angel, but 's okay, yeah? I know 's hard, but try not to get too upset over this, 'kay? Jus' try to have fun, and I'll be here if y'need anything."
She minutely nodded at his words, only perking up to rise to the tips of her toes with her lips searching for his. Harry was quick to grant her her wish, smoothing his lips over hers. The kiss was simple, nothing short of reassuring as he knew that was what she was looking for. He drew back first only to press a string of playful pecks against her lips, fighting off his own smile as her's bloomed across her lips. He paused to nudge his nose against the tip of her own in a puppy's kiss, the cool of his nose piercing brushing against her skin.
"Thank you," she squeaked, her eyes fluttering open as Harry drew back from her. His hand on her cheek stayed still, only grazing his thumb over her cheekbone with his other hand on her hip.
Harry only smiled to her with the curl of his lips going lopsided, only one of his dimples denting his cheeks. "You're welcome, baby."
She looked like she was going to say more, but (Y/N) was cut off by the sound of her phone buzzing somewhere in the pile of bedding she had been fretting over. She pulled herself from Harry's embrace, crawling atop the mattress as she dug through the layered duvets for her phone, his eyes affectionately following after her. She settled in the middle of the nest she created, her phone now cradled in her hands as she gazed at the screen with her lip between her teeth.
(Y/N) looked to him with big eyes, something much more excited swimming in her irises than he had seen only a few minutes prior. "They said they're here."
Harry's crooked smile unfurled into a large grin at her words, reaching towards her hands to lace his fingers through hers. "Then c'mon, need to go greet your guests," he urged, tugging her off the bed to lead her towards the living room.
She pliantly followed after him, seemingly getting more comfortable with each step she took. Harry released his hold on her hand before stepping back as she went to the front door, replying to a message Mitch had sent. He looked up when he heard the telltale giggled greetings and found his girl hugging her friends and telling them how excited she was to see them. A glowing smile was etched onto her features, making it hard for Harry to not mimic the expression as he watched her.
"Hey, H," Sarah called as she kicked off her shoes by the door, shooting him a smile.
"Hi, Sarah," he greeted, pocketing his phone before standing from his position on the arm of the couch. He wrapped his arms around Sarah in a friendly hug, keeping his eye on (Y/N) over her shoulder as she directed her newer friends on where to put their things.
"She seems nervous. Is everything okay?" Sarah whispered before pulling back from Harry, her smile light on her face as to make sure (Y/N) didn't catch onto what they were discussing.
Harry nodded his head, making sure his girl was still distracted before verbally answering, "She wants everyone to have fun, and is worried she's not doing enough. You know how she gets sometimes."
Sarah's expression dropped just the smallest bit at the new information. "I know. Thank for helping her though, H," Sarah got out before (Y/N) directed her attention to the two of them.
"And, this is my boyfriend Harry," (Y/N) introduced, gesturing to him as her friends stood beside her, "Harry, this is Charlotte and Emily from the library."
Harry politely smiled, reaching his hand out to shake the two of their's. "Nice to meet you."
The two girls reciprocated his greeting, Harry ignoring the way their eyes flitted over his form before flicking to (Y/N). Most people did the same thing when they saw the pair of them, not quite sure how someone so cotton candy sweet and pastel pink as (Y/N) would end up with someone like Harry.
"Are you ready, Sarah? Harry helped me clean up the spare room so we can hang out there tonight," (Y/N) beamed, seemingly unaware of the conversation she interrupted.
Harry stood back as (Y/N) pointed them down the hallway to the spare bedroom, lingering behind for only a second. While a small edging of nerves were still working their way out of her system with her fumbling hands and the way she shifted on her feet, most of the previous anxiety seemed to have melted away now that her company had arrived.
"Thank you," she reiterated from earlier. She popped onto the tips of her toes before pressing a quick kiss to Harry's lips, too quick for Harry to react before she was scuttling her way down the hall to follow her friends.
He could already hear the sound of her laughter and the beginnings of the "girls' night" fluttering from the bedroom, drawing his own smile to his features. He brushed his fingers over the plush of his bottom lip, over his lip ring and where the full of her lips had planted a kiss. He had half the mind to chase after her, in search of a conclusion to her kiss, but he couldn't. Not when she so excitedly ran to join her friends, along with the happy smile that decorated her features after she pulled away. And there was nothing that made him more happy than seeing her happy. He could wait for another kiss.
—————
Maybe Harry overestimated himself.
He could hear the way (Y/N) was happily giggling and chatting away in the other room, the sound of her muffled voice only momentarily interrupted when one of her friends spoke. The sound had kept his lips curved into a smile for the hour since she had started her night, the happy noises satisfying him with the knowledge that she was having just as good of a time as he had promised she would. It wasn't until he was halfway through a movie he had watched only a couple times before with (Y/N) tucked under his arm, did he realize that he felt... lonely.
It was a silly thing to feel, he was sure. His girlfriend was still in the same house as him, close enough he could hear her, but it just wasn't enough. He felt clingy as he recognized just how much he yearned to have her back in his arms and her attention back on him. All he wanted to do was go whisk her away, tugging her from the spare room and wrapping her in his arms in an effort to hear that laugh in person and not through a layer of drywall and plaster. What was he supposed to do when she was right there but he couldn't touch her or talk to her, even? It shouldn't be hard to be away from her like this, especially seeing as to how they still didn't even live together. He couldn't remember ever being this needy before.
He only made it another ten minutes before he heard a loud burst of laughter he knew immediately came from his angel. It was the one she let out when she thought something was especially funny or really happy in the moment, the one Harry always felt the proudest of when he could draw it from her. After hearing that, he knew he had to do something. Even if the silly plan he made up only allowed for a moment or two to see her, he'd do it.
Harry remembered the small agenda (Y/N) had put together, knowing that she had planned on starting a movie around now with her friends in the other room. They would want popcorn if they were watching a movie, right? (Y/N) always wanted something like that to snack on when they had their own movie night (though she only made it through a few kernels before she was slumped against his shoulder with sleep on its way to take her). So, he went out of his way to fish for the last remaining packet of popcorn in his cupboards.
Keeping his ear trained on the sound of (Y/N)'s muffled voice over the popping of the kernels, Harry moved about the kitchen with antsy motivation. He rifled around the cabinets in search of the large white and purple spotted bowl she liked to eat popcorn from, trying his best to slow himself down when he realized he still had ninety seconds on the microwave timer. He swung the door open as soon as the timer beeped, dumping the contents of the paper package into the bowl before checking his phone. He hoped to see a text from (Y/N), but was disappointed to find his screen notification-less.
With the heated bowl in hand, Harry didn't have it in him to feel even a little embarrassed at the small lengths he was going through just to quell the need in his tummy to catch a glimpse of his girl. As he drew closer to the spare bedroom, he could hear the collection of voices much more clear. (Y/N)'s was the easiest to pick from the bunch, Harry sure he could pick her out of a crowded room. He hesitated for a moment before he rapped his knuckles against the wood of the door, the girls on the other side quieting at the noise.
"Come in!" (Y/N) called. Harry tried not to dwell on how fast his heart started beating at the sound of her voice directed at him.
He carefully cracked open the door, popping his head in to find the group of them all huddled on the nest of blankets (Y/N) had put together on the bed. Each pair of eyes was directed on him, Sarah's much more knowing than the others, but Harry only had eyes for (Y/N). She looked to him with her eyes wide and questioning, the remnants of her bubbling laughter being found in the light in her eyes and the lines acting as parenthesis around her mouth.
"I—uh—I made popcorn, if y'wanted some," Harry offered, pretending as if he didn't notice that there was no movie playing on the T.V. like he had predicted.
(Y/N)'s brows shot up in happiness at his words, gifting him with the sweet smile he had missed in the short amount of time they'd been a part. "Yes, please!" she bubbled, climbing off the bed as she reached for the bowl in his hands, "We were just talking about getting some snacks. Thank you!"
Harry replaced the warmth of the bowl that was now in her hands by settling his palms over her hips. She leant up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the contact short-lived before she turned around to face her friends again. Just before they started chatting about whatever it is he interrupted, Harry took that as his cue to leave.
Well, at least he got to see her, right?
That should be able to hold him off, right?
—————
Harry only made it another thirty minutes.
He knew he was just making up excuses at this point. He had become used to hearing the constant flow of laughter and muffled words coming from the spare room, the string tethering his heart to her's now feeling a constant tugging that tried to lure him over to her. Turns out the small interaction ending with a kiss on the cheek wasn't enough to tide him over until each of the girls decided to call it a night and he would get his lovebug back.
Sorting through his mind for anything to do to keep him from interrupting her night again, he found himself finally folding the pile of laundry he had promised himself he would do a week ago. He barely paid attention to any of the pieces, only really caring for the small pink and purple socks that definitely weren't his, and the much too small pink crop top he remembers (Y/N) spilling spaghetti sauce on last week. The bottom of the basket was filled out by a familiar pink blanket, unfailingly soft and one of Evie's preferred things to sleep on. It was (Y/N)'s favorite blanket, one she had left at his house over a week ago when she noticed just how much Evie pined over the fabric (and because she spent majority of her time as his place anyway).
She'd want to have this, right? She would probably be happy to find that he had finally taken care of the laundry and found her favorite blanket. So, it wouldn't be that bad of an idea to just go knock on her door and see if she wanted it, right?
Harry didn't have a chance before he had fully talked himself into the plan. He wanted this offer to be as tempting as possible, maybe earning him just a second longer with her or even—if he was lucky—a real kiss. Knowing she was still fairly private when it came to PDA and expressing her love for Harry publicly, he knew it was a long shot, but he couldn't help but hope that maybe she would take pity on his obvious attempts to see her and indulge him a little.
He gave the blanket a spin in the dryer, hoping she would appreciate the extra warmth swaddling the fabric. This time, Harry did feel just a tiny bit embarrassed as he trekked down the hallway to the spare room, something akin to a walk of shame. The blanket was bundled against his chest, the downy material brushing against the bare of his arms; he wasn't sure if it was the truth or just his yearning heart talking, but he couldn't help but compare the cushiony textile to the feel off her lips against his or even her touch along his skin.
Just as the last time, he gently knocked on the door. (Y/N) hadn't been speaking when he had arrived on the other side, a small disappointment that was quickly shooed away when she called for him to come in! just like before. The bundled blanket in his arms made for a much clumsier entrance than before, the pink material being seen before Harry.
(Y/N) helped open the door for him, having climbed off the bed as soon as she heard Harry knock on the door. She looked up at him with a soft smile on her face, rivaling the down of the blanket in his arms. "What did you need, H?" she asked, her gaze flitting to the blanket in his arms before retreating to his face.
He could feel the eyes of the other girls trained on him again, but this time one of them (Charlotte, he thinks she's called) leaned over and whispered something to Sarah before the pair of them shared a quiet laugh. He was aware of the way Sarah whispered something back before talking to remaining girl to her right, but he kept his gaze fixed on (Y/N).
"This jus' came out of the dryer, so 's all warm like y'like it. Was just wondering if y'wanted it, maybe?" He felt shy as he explained his appearance, keeping his voice low between them.
(Y/N) didn't seem to catch onto the clinginess of Harry's actions, only gratefully pulling the blanket from his arms. "Yes, thank you, H," she smiled, trying her best to keep the bundle contained in her arms.
Harry was sure this was his cue to leave again, to leave his girl to hang out with her friends as they had planned. But, he couldn't help but linger for just a beat, hoping she would do as she did before and plant a kiss on his cheek. Instead, she shot him another smile before turning back to her friends and bouncing back onto the bed with the blanket tumbling out of her arms. Sarah shot him a look over (Y/N)'s shoulder. She was onto him.
Closing the door behind him, Harry couldn't help but feel the remnants of a pout take his features. She didn't kiss him.
He tried to convince himself that just because that minor detail was missing, he didn't need to make his presence known again and interrupt her night further. But, he couldn't help but notice that the bottle of wine they'd been drinking was now empty with each of the stemless glasses placed on the bedside tables being equally dry (excluding (Y/N)'s, but he knew she was still building up the confidence to let herself go like that around people who weren't him).
It wouldn't hurt to see if they wanted more, right? He'd picked up that extra bottle for a reason, right?
The one thing holding him back was racing right back to the bedroom, bottle of muscato in hand, was his worry. He took a page from (Y/N)'s book and launched into a web of anguished thoughts of whether or not he was being overbearing. He knew he doted over (Y/N) majority of the time he was with her, Mitch and Sarah always teasing him for waiting on her like she was some long-lost princess. Maybe he was being selfish for wanting so badly to inject himself into her night, the first time she'd ever been able to indulge in the teen movie cliches of having a girls' night and being without his overbearing presence.
Harry attempted to remind himself that (Y/N) had expressed just how much she appreciated and loved his doting qualities. She was never even a tick under being absolutely comfortable and happy in his presence due to each of the small things he went out of his way to do for her. She never mentioned anything about feeling suffocated or finding his affection bothersome. So, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to pop in one more time, see if they needed anything—if she needed him.
And, god, he was just so bored without her! What was his life even filled of before she fluttered in on her angel wings to steal his heart?
With the promise that this would be the last time he invited himself into their girls' night, Harry held the neck of the wine bottle in one hand and the other gripping (Y/N)'s baby blue, reusable bottle filled with cold water.
It had only been twenty minutes since he had popped in last. Hopefully, he wasn't being annoying.
He performed the now familiar routine, knocking on the door where he could hear (Y/N) and her friends quiet down on the other side. Instead of the typical radio silence coming from the girls beyond the door, a smattering of laughter could be heard through the wood.
"H, you can come in!" (Y/N) laughed, the sound of her smile warming him more than any bottle of wine or blanket fresh from the dryer could.
He nudged the door open, no longer finding it in himself to care that Sarah had most definitely been onto him the second he started popping into the room, his eyes only finding (Y/N)'s. A softened smile unfurled over his lips as he found her with her blanket stretched over her legs as she shared it with the rest of the group.
"Hi," he started, huffing a laugh at himself over how relieved he was to simply see her smiling, "I brought another bottle of wine if y'wanted, and some water?"
Charlotte seemed to perk up at the idea of more wine, Emily seconding the notion with a soft ooh! escaping her lips. (Y/N) carefully untwisted herself from the bedding to move to Harry and the amber colored wine in his hand. The girls behind her started up their own tittering conversation that Harry didn't have the mind the pay attention to.
"Thank you, H," she said, keeping her voice quiet between them, "You're being very sweet tonight."
"Aren't I sweet always?" he teased, feeling more himself now that she was allowing him a larger portion of her attention.
Her smile only widened at his words, a small nod tipping her chin as she reached for the bottles in his hands. He happily passed them off to her. (Y/N) turned around again, but didn't seem to be kicking him out the way she had before. When she faced him again, Harry hoped she was readying herself to indulge in the kiss he had been pining for all night. Instead, he was gifted with an empty bottle of wine and a second calling of thank you! falling from her lips.
The door clicked behind him as he shut it, leaving him alone in the hallway with an empty bottle of wine at 9:04pm. He was out of ideas; out of excuses to meander his way into her night without him, leaving him with a cold bed and thoughts of her keeping his chest warm. Evie had effectively taken root in Mitch's room for the night, the one place free of Harry's anxious energy and the giggles of four girls to keep her up. Mitch wouldn't even be home till later, but even then he was coming to pick up Sarah, then the two of them would go back to the apartment, so he had nothing to entertain himself with besides the clock that ticked down the minutes until (Y/N) was free to wrap him in her attention.
How was it possible to miss someone who was right there?
Harry begrudgingly trekked back to the kitchen, throwing out the empty bottle of wine and getting himself some water. The movie he had started at the beginning of the night was still paused on a scene he didn't remember ever viewing. Now, come to think of it, he had no recollection of what the film was even called, his thoughts having been plagued by (Y/N) and different schemes to weasel his way into the spare bedroom. He dropped himself down into the worn cushion before pressing play and pretending like he had any idea of what plot was playing out on his screen. Instinctually, he draped his arm over the back of the couch, used to the way (Y/N) was attached to his side as soon as a film started rolling on the T.V.
Maybe he could paint his nails? Harry glanced down at the chipping black and pink paint on his fingers. No, (Y/N) painted these, he wanted to keep them for as long as he could. Maybe he could do more laundry? No, he didn't think he could handle finding more articles of her clothing and not immediately using the act of returning them as an excuse to see her again. Maybe he could get a head start of sketching this coverup piece that he had scheduled for Monday? No, he would only lose himself in the pages and pages filled with sketches of his angel.
Was there any part of his life that was untouched by her?
It wasn't until the movie had ended, the time on his phone now showing 10:13pm, that Harry broke again. This time wasn't as bad as the others, he reasoned with himself. He wasn't popping in there with a lame excuse to get him through the door. No, this time he was just going to be cool and casual about it.
Nothing was clingy about a text to just check in with his girlfriend, right?
Do you need anything? xxxxx
He forced himself to lock his phone and set it face down on the cushions beside him. He busied himself with taking a long sip form his water, pretending as if he wasn't as antsy as he really was for her response. As soon at the device buzzed beside him, all thoughts of letting a couple of moments pass before checking were thrown out the window.
(Y/N) 🌸🤍🎀
no im good but thank u!!!!!
He couldn't help but deflate a bit at her answer. But, could he really be surprised? He'd made it his mission for the past hours to make sure each of her needs were taken care of before she even knew she needed them.
Harry reluctantly melted back into couch after sending a simple okay, back with a smattering of kisses following after. He didn't pine over the three dots he knew wouldn't show, instead forcing himself to browse the Netflix queue on his screen. He hoped, futilely, that something would catch his attention and draw it away from the giggling girl in the other room.
After what he was sure was at least forty-five minutes (it was really only about twenty when Harry ended up checking the time) of scrolling through Netflix and settling on a movie where he only got through the first five minutes before having to stop, did Harry resign himself to get ready for bed. He wasn't quite sure how long (Y/N) was going to have her company over, all he knew was that Mitch didn't get off work for another hour or so, making that the earliest the night could end. He had wanted to wait for her, wait to get ready and go to bed together so neither of them would have to lay without the other. But, he was running out of distractions.
Rifling through the freshly folded clothes in his drawers, Harry tried to find articles of his that (Y/N) most frequently wore. Despite going through the wash, he hoped remnants of her scent would linger in the weaving of the fabric enough for him to feel even a bit of comfort. He finished with a large pink crewneck adoring his torso, one she typically wore as a dress before she wrapped herself around him in her sleep, and a pair of too short sweatpants she had to cuff at least five times over to ensure she didn't trip over herself when wearing them. All he had left to find was a pair of socks, the temperature in the house having dropped some (whether that be from (Y/N)'s absence or something Harry perceived all on his own, he wasn't sure).
As soon as he slid open the top drawer, he should have known it was a bad idea. Several pairs of petite, fuzzy socks took up the space in the drawer, pairs too small for him but perfect for the girl sitting only a room away. Harry felt as if he was going for a record tonight with the speed that another bad idea popped into his mind. He tried his best to shoo it away, having spent all his chances of spending time with (Y/N) prematurely in the night; he had no good reason to peek back in.
But, just because it wasn't a good reason, didn't take from the fact it was still a reason, nonetheless.
Harry sighed as he plucked out a pristine white pair, the toes and heel stitched with pale pink patches. He knew his logic was flawed, but he was practically grasping at straws by this point, and this one seemed to stick.
If he thought it was cold, that would mean that (Y/N) most likely felt the same way. She typically liked to pad around the house in a pair of her fuzzy socks, especially the pair in Harry's hand, having told him that where she got coldest first and the fastest. All he would need to do is just ask if she wanted them. It didn't matter if she was with her friends or not, this was something that effect the quality of her night. If she wasn't comfortable, she couldn't keep having fun and that was the point of the night. This idea, though leaning on the side of desperate, was as good as any at this point.
The walk to the spare bedroom had become Harry's version of the walk of shame, an embarrassment shifting up his spine further and further with each trek back and forth. This time, instead of immediately enacting the familiar routine, Harry stopped in front of the door. He'd heard his name.
It was never a good thing to eavesdrop, but Harry couldn't help himself as he hesitated on the other side. He wanted to see what they were talking about.
"You never tell us anything about him," someone—Emily, maybe?—teasingly accused (Y/N), "I had no idea he was going to look like that from the way you described him!"
Harry furrowed his brow. What was that supposed to mean?
"Yeah, I never would have pictured him for you. I didn't think you even knew what a tattoo was," Charlotte(?) laughed.
Harry understood what they were getting at now. It wasn't hard to see that they had been shocked to find he was who (Y/N) was dating. They just showed to prove that opposites attract.
Sarah was the only one that didn't immediately join in on the prodding over (Y/N)'s love life, being the only other person in the room to know more about their relationship.
"He's...," (Y/N) trailed off, Harry able to perfectly imagine the way she shrugged her shoulders and allowed a shy smile to take her features, "Yeah."
She stopped abruptly there, Harry not entirely sure what being "yeah" meant, but he'd happily take it if the audible smile she spoke through meant anything. He shifted his weight on his feet, moving to lean soundlessly against the wall as he continued to listen in.
"Oh, c'mon!" Charlotte pipped up, punctuated by the sound of Sarah's familiar laugh, "He's more than just yeah. You're so private about him, I can't even imagine what goes on when you're alone."
"You don't want to know," Sarah mumbled, a teasing tone to her voice that had the other girls laughing and presumably (Y/N) left with a heat behind her cheeks.
"It's not like that," (Y/N) argued (though Harry was pretty sure he could debate that it was, in fact, like that), "I just...I love him. A lot."
He felt his heart melt in harmony with the girls aw'ing on the other side. Would it be too soon to burst in and tell her he loved her a lot too?
"It's kind of crazy since we haven't been together for even a year yet,"—they were just a month and some change shy of their year anniversary actually—"But, I love him so much." (Y/N)'s voice held a dreamy quality to it, her breath coming out in sighs with the words curling around his heart in comforting squeezes. "I didn't even know you could love anyone like this, but he's so gentle with me, and kind, and you've seen the way he's been in and out of here all night. He cares which is... so nice. It's nice to think that he loves me like I love him."
Harry was sure he was going to be found as a heart shaped puddle in the middle of the hallway, her words having liquified his bones and tethered his lungs to his heart. There was no thought in his head left unturned and marked with her kiss and the promise of her forever love. He didn't really have to worry about what his life was like before her, because he didn't think there was ever going to be a reason to go back.
A chorus of retreating aw's sounded on the other side of the door, Harry trying his best to cling to the noise to keep him afloat and aware of the moment.
"He definitely loves you so much," Emily chimed in, a pouting tone to her voice like one would use to speak to a puppy.
"Mhm," Sarah hummed, "Every time he's come in here tonight, he doesn't even see us, he's just looking right to you. It's like there's no one here but you, and I've known him longer."
Harry was quick to pick out the sound of his lover's laugher, the sound taking him from the puddle he had become and making him as light as a cloud that floated on the sound of her happiness.
The soft moment was interrupted when one of the girls, Harry wasn't able to pick out who, posed her own question.
"...And how's the sex?"
"No, I'm not telling you!" (Y/N) laughed. Some mumbles from the other girls elicited more strings of laughter to fill the room that Harry wasn't able to make out, but he figured it was enough to get that bashful heat to warm his angel's cheeks and drop her gaze to her hands in her lap.
The conversation shifted after that, the topic leaving Harry behind to dwell on the honeyed information filtering through his brain. He looked at the pair of socks still in his hands for a moment before turning away from the door.
He'd leave her be, he decided. The words of her love were enough to tide him over until she was ready to end her night.
—————
Harry jolted out of his half sleep as he sat on the couch when he heard the front door shut behind Mitch. He blinked open his sleep coated eyes, having been dancing between dreams filled with soft laughter and declarations of love, and wanting to stay awake for whenever (Y/N) was ready for bed with him.
"Hey, man," Mitch called as he yawned, "The girls still hanging out?"
"Yeah," Harry sighed, "I don't know when they'll be done either. Gone through two bottles of wine, though."
A smile cracked at Mitch's features, shaking his head as he stepped towards his room. "Have you been waiting all night for her then?"
A sheepish smile tugged at Harry features, happy that his friend couldn't see him as his back was turned towards the open door of his bedroom. The tip of his tongue played with the ring pierced through his lip, "Uh, yeah. Kinda."
He could hear Mitch scoff from his room, the sound of him putting his things away before toeing of his shoes. "Kinda," he laughed, "I don't know how you haven't crashed the whole night, you can't be more than five feet away from (Y/N) when she's not in class."
"That's not true," Harry countered, though he knew it was, in fact, true, as this night had proved to him. "I've checked in a couple times, but that's it. And there's nothing wrong with that anyway, y'know how (Y/N) can get nervous sometimes."
"Yeah, you were checking in for her, right," Mitch teased, before shutting his bedroom door.
Only a beat later, the door he had been waiting to hear creak open all night pulled him from his spot on the couch.
"Did I just hear Mitch come home?" Sarah called from the hallway, leading the line of girls from the room. Charlotte and Emily were chattering away between each other, sounding like they were arranging rides to get home while (Y/N) took up the end with a tired set in her eyes.
"Yeah, I think he's jus' getting changed," Harry nodded towards Mitch's room before his eyes were fixed on his girl again.
She shot him a sleepy smile before being pulled into a small conversation with Charlotte. Sarah had meandered her way to sit on the arm of the couch beside Harry, looking to him with a small smile on her face.
"You're not very subtle, you know," she mused, "If you wanted to hang out with us tonight, all you had to do was ask."
Harry gently nudged her with his shoulder, running a heavy hand through his hair. "I jus' wanted to make sure she was alright and had everything she needed, is that wrong of me?"
Sarah shrugged beside him, "I'm just surprised you didn't feed her the popcorn by hand and help her drink her water."
"Hey," Harry whined, elongating the ending with a feigned look of hurt on his face, "'M not clingy."
"I never said you were," Sarah countered, her tone teasing to match the smile on her face.
Just as Mitch emerged from his room, pajamas donned on his figure and the familiar duffle bag he lugged to the apartment over his shoulder, Charlotte declared that her boyfriend was here to take both her and Emily home. Harry stood from his spot on the couch at the sound of the announcement, playfully shoving at Sarah's shoulder beside him. She only shot him a glare that was softened by the huff of laughter that fell from her lips. He watched on from his background point of view as Sarah rejoined the group and the four of them all said their goodbyes for the night.
"Thank you guys for coming over, I had a really good time," (Y/N) beamed before pulling each of them individually for hugs. Each girl reciprocated the sentiment, telling her how happy they were to come and they couldn't wait to do it again.
"And thank you, Harry, for the wine and everything. It was really nice to meet you," Charlotte said, pulling Harry from his fixed attention on (Y/N).
"Of course," he smiled, though there was something very familiar to Sarah's teasing he could find on her face, "It was nice to meet you too."
They definitely all knew the real reason he found himself popping in on their night.
Charlotte and Emily were the first to exit, (Y/N) watching from the threshold of the front door to make sure they drove away safely before turning to Sarah.
"You should come back home more often, this was so much fun," Sarah started, an exaggerated pout on her lips, "We can have our living room sleepovers again."
"I know, I miss you," (Y/N) reciprocated, her eyes momentarily flicking to Harry before being directed back to her friend, "I promise I will next week, I've just been... busy lately."
Her pout turned into a teasing smile that Harry already knew would turn (Y/N) into his bashful sweetheart. "Oh I know, you just love him so much you get so busy—"
"Stop it!" (Y/N) got out in a laugh, jokingly urging Sarah towards the front door where Mitch was leaned against with a smile matching his girlfriend's on his face. "Go, I'll see you on Monday!"
Harry crossed the space between them in lazy strides, saying his own goodbyes to the couple as they headed towards Mitch's car parked in the driveway. Harry wrapped his arms around (Y/N)'s middle from behind, tucking his chin into the crook of her neck as they gave their final waves to their friends before driving away. He reluctantly let her go to shut the front door, locking out the cold air that was waiting outside.
(Y/N) looked to Harry with her tired eyes as she lent back against the door, hands clasped behind her. "Hi."
A blooming smile unfurled over Harry's features, reaching out for her to take her spot back in his arms. "Hi," he mumbled once she was flush against his chest, the greeting tucked into the strands of hair at the top of her head. "I missed you."
(Y/N) pulled back at his words, her arms stationed around his neck to ensure she didn't stray far. "I was here the whole time, silly," she laughed, the sound coming out dreamy and melodic to Harry's ears.
"That was the problem," he started, moving his hands from the soft of her waist to cradle the full of her cheeks in his palms. He dipped his head down and indulged in the small contact he had been craving all night, sweet kisses smoothed over her lips with the whisperings of her honey sweet taste stamped against his mouth. "Y'were right there, and I couldn't even go in and cuddle you, and kiss you, and do all the things y'know I love."
Harry didn't have it in him to feel childish as he pouted at her, only reveling in the way she allowed him to steal as many kisses from her lips as she leaned into the palms of his hands. "It was hard," he lamented, dropping his forehead to rest against hers.
"Oh, H," she sighed, her eyes rounding out at his admission, the fingers in his hair curling a little deeper through the tumbling strands. "I know, I missed you too. Thank you for coming by with all that stuff and making sure we were having a good time. It was nice to see you each time, too."
Her own confession could have brought Harry to his knees, recalling the affectionate praises she shared with her friends over him. Instead, he allowed himself to press a kiss to the tip of her nose before drawing away.
"Good, good. Wanted y'to have fun tonight," he mumbled, dropping his hand from her cheek to twine between her fingers. He began leading her towards the bedroom, where he already had everything set up from when he so optimistically yet futilely planned on getting some sleep without her.
(Y/N) dismissed herself after Harry closed the door behind them, Evie slipping through before the click sounded, citing the need to get dressed into some pajamas before she could sleep. Harry climbed into bed to wait for her, turning down the duvet in anticipation for her to join him as Evie made her own bed at the foot of the mattress.
Now in a shirt of his and a pair of comfortable shorts, (Y/N) emerged from his closet. Just as she was about to join Harry in a cuddle under the covers, she spotted the pair of socks he had left at the end of the bed where Evie was just a couple of inches shy of laying atop.
"Oh!" she bubbled, already reaching for the pair to slip onto her feet, "My feet have been cold all night, how did you know?" She shot him a grateful smile over his shoulder, warming Harry from the inside out.
He could have gone in one more time, and with good reason, too. He'd just save that for next time.
—————
I hope u guys like this !!!! it was really fun to write I loved this idea so much!!! thank u all sm for reading and to whoever requested it!! sorry for any mistakes and if u have any ideas please send them in !!
a continuation of the soft dad!harry series ft. some babymaking. enjoy! [8.8k, warning for language and smut!]
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The tell-tale tightening in your backside is what wakes you up. It takes a moment for you to register the sensation, but once you’re able to recognize it, your heart falters a bit.
The inexorable curse of womanhood, you think to yourself as you carefully sit up in bed, trying not to disturb a snoring Harry next to you. You shed your shorts and sleeping shirt, already gunning for a shower to fend off any insidious hot flashes that might show face later in the day. Your lower belly tightens with the first pang of discomfort. You wrinkle your nose as you plop down on the toilet, one hand coming to cradle you stomach.
You look down at the hand pressed against your bare skin as an inexplicable wave of disappointment washes over you. You tap your fingers along your belly, picturing how hollow it is. How empty it is. How, for the second time in the last two months, you wish you didn’t feel like your body has let you down once again. You chew on the inside of you cheek and sigh, flushing the toilet before hopping in the shower.
Summary: Deaky flirts with Freddie’s friend from design school.
Warnings: I’m proof reading in the morning so if there are mistakes, I haven’t gotten to yet, I apologize, cursing? (VERY little), mentions of graffiti, implied steaminess, kissing
A/N: This one is LONG but I think it’s cute! My next one will be long too and it will be Rog! I’ll proofread this once I wake up. Please try to ignore that it doesn’t make any sense for the reader to be the photographer for this particlar shoot, I’ve referenced. Tumblr was being really weird with the text boxes so I’m sorry about any lay out problems.
Song Referenced: “Your Song” by Elton John
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“Freddie, I’ve never met this person in my life. I can’t imagine she’d be comfortable having me waltzing around in her flat. Why don’t I just wait in the car?”
“Don’t be absurd, love. We won’t be waltzing! We haven’t brought our ball gowns!” Freddie announced, gesturing widely with his arms as he stepped into the elevator.
“Why would she mind having a handsome stranger in? Especially when he’s come with her even more handsome friend?” John smiled and rolled his eyes, head shaking at the comment. “I’m just popping in. I need to make sure she’s free on Tuesday. She’ll be meeting the rest of the band then, so you’ll have a head start, lucky ducky.” Freddie winked at him, and John gave a half smile as the elevator doors opened.
“She’s at number 143. Do you know how she’s gotten me to remember that, Deaky?” He made a sharp turn down the hallway.
“How’s that, Fred?”
“I love you.”
“…I love you too, Fred?”
“Oh, stop it silly! One letter in I, four letters in love, three letters in you. I love you. 1-4-3. I think itself quite clever if I do say so myself.”
“That’s sweet.” Deaky smiled a bit as he followed behind his friend. Finally, he halted in front of a door.
“Here we are!” Every door in the hallway was white, but for some reason, this door had a large orange hand print smudged across the side. It looked like someone had (unsuccessfully) tried to scrub it off some time ago. He frowned, crooking an eyebrow at Freddie.
“Oh! She’s the clumsiest little thing you’ll ever meet. She’s gets paint all over everything she touches. There’s no way in hell she’s getting her security deposit back, I’ll say that much.” Deaky laughed amusedly as Freddie gave three climatic raps to the door. “It’s Freddie, Darling!” A thump came from the other side of the door, followed by a shuffling sound.
“On my way!” A muffled voice called through the walls. Seconds later, the door flung open, revealing someone whom Deaky knew, without question, would end up being one of the best people he’d ever met.
She wore no makeup, but her face and neck were smudged all over with different colors. Her hair was down, and the wispy strands near the front had obviously been caught with a paintbrush once or twice. She had on overalls, which looked about how you’d expect them to; far too large and riddled with swipes of acrylic. Even the striped, long sleeved shirt she wore underneath bore signs of her work.
“Freddie!” She blew him a kiss, knowing that a hug would ruin his clothes.
“Oh sweetheart! I’ve missed that smile!” She did have a nice smile. It was bright and friendly in ways Deaky wished he could come across as. Fred was beaming, “You’re stunning! And just look at the place! It’s fantastic!” She laughed, tossing her dishevelled hair over her shoulder.
“Oh how rude of me,” He turned to John, who had been far too enamoured to feel ignored. “This is my Deaky. He’s a Leo and a gentleman.”
The girl held out her hand, immediately pulling it back, sheepishly when she realized how covered in paint her fingers were. John smiled at her warmly.
“Come inside! Please!”
He followed her through the doorway. John grinned at the sight of her living room. She’d pushed the couch and coffee table back and covered the carpet with some sort of plastic tarp. Around the room set a few easels, each one holding a more wonderful painting than the next.
“Freddie my sketches are sitting on my bed. Could you grab them?” She grabbed a dish towel that hung from an easel and rubbed off her hands as Freddie trotted off into the next room.
“They’re lovely…” Deaky commented, shyly. She caught a glimpse of the awe on his face as he took a step foward to admire one of them.
“Thank you…I’m Y/N…by the way.” She offered her hand again, clean this time. He shook it timidly. “I didn’t know if Fred told you my name…Deaky, was it?”
He laughed and rubbed the nape of his neck, blushing.“Yeah…that’s what my friends call me.”
She smiled, scrunching her nose playfully as she picked up a paintbrush, turning to face the canvas. “Are we friends?”
He met her eyes with his, flustered. “If you’d like to be.”
He swore he saw her bite her lip as she looked to the floor, and back to him. A strand of loose hair fell into her face and she gave a half smile. “I’d like to be.” Her tone was almost flirtatious. It made him a bit jumpy, in a way.
“Then absolutely.” He smirked, his ears still bright red.
Freddie called out from a room away, “Where’ve you left them, lovie?”
“On my dresser…”
He returned much too quickly for John’s liking.
“These are perfect!” He shouted, stumbling back into the living room.
“You really think so? Because I wasn’t sure about the-”
“You’re never sure about anything you do, darling. Believe me when I say, they’re absolutely wonderful.” She dropped her brush in a cup of water, swiping her hands over the towel again before walking over to Freddie.
“It’s just my concepts for the photographs so far.”
“Well, I know that! I like what you’ve got! It’s very ‘you’, which is very 'me’, which is very 'us’, you know?”
She giggled a little, making John’s chest flip. The corners of her mouth turned upwards, “What are you on about?” she teased.
He beamed, stepping over a roll of paper to return the folder. “You adore me. Don’t deny it."
John paused, drifting over to watch her work. She tried to hide her smile.
"You make it look easy.” He mumbled into his hand.
Her hair flipped a bit as she glanced over her shoulder, “I’d hope not. Usually if it starts to get easy, then I know I’m painting the wrong things.” Her fingers gripped the handle a bit tighter as she stippled something. “You, for example…" She turned to him, trading out her brush, "You’d be wonderfully tricky to paint. Might take months.” She joked, smiling.
He blushed again, eyes falling to his shuffling feet, “Well, I apologize for my inconvenient face.”
Her little smirk crept back onto her cheek as she rested the handle of her brush against her lips. “Definitely not an inconvenience…”
Freddie popped back in with a thick fur scarf, “Can I borrow this? It was sitting on the back of your chair. It’s stunning! It deserves to see the sunlight. The nightlife. The stage.”
“I got it for you, Mister Mercury. I thought you’d enjoy it.”
He gasped, “Deaky! Did you hear that? We’ve got to run before she changes her mind!” He took John’s hand, tugging him to the door.
“In and out so soon, then?” She said sadly, eyes meeting John’s, again.
“Oh, I’m afraid we really must be meeting the other boys, but you know it won’t be long. We’ll see you Tuesday, remember?”
“Alright, alright. But drive safely!” She called after the two, shaking her head. John turned back to her, nervously. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t find any words.
The corner of her mouth pulled up, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
He wasn’t lying.
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By the time Tuesday rolled around, John was going a little stir crazy. Freddie kept giving him knowing smiles and frankly, he didn’t need reminding of how much he had enjoyed being around her. He was nervous enough as it was. Part of him was dreading Tuesday. It was inevitable that she’d end up making out with Roger or being charmed by Brian. He didn’t stand much of a chance up against an astrophysicist or a sex symbol. He was only, well, a Leo and a gentleman.
She looked different from the way she had on Friday. Instead of the overalls, she was enveloped in a giant wool sweater. It made her seem tiny. Around her neck sat the chunky strap of her camera. Underneath, she wore a short, black skirt that hugged her body and made him squirm whenever she bent over. Her hair was still down, much to his delight, and while her clothes seemed relatively paint free, he could see a few spots of red and yellow tucked behind her ear. Somehow, he found her even more enthralling than he had before. She winked at him from across the room, laughing breathily as the others talked.
“Have your way with us, Lovely!” Freddie sang, taking her arms.
Roger gave a wicked smirk at the comment, “She can have her way with me all she likes.”
Deaky could feel anger bubbling in his chest, but he swallowed it down, pursing his lips. He didn’t like the way he was looking at her. It was like a shark who’d spotted blood in the water.
“Oh, don’t be nasty.” Freddie gave him a shove as Y/N spun the lense cover off of her camera.
She’d set a black backdrop up in the center of the studio they were to work in. Staring at it pensively, she turned to the group. “Brian, come here. I think I’ll have you center. You’re quite tall, aren’t you?” She laughed a little, taking his arm to guide him over to the set. Gently, she adjusted his position from his shoulders before beconing for Roger. That bubbly, angry feeling reappeared as John watched her move him. Roger purposely disregarded her, turning right when she asked him to turn left and so on, so that she’d have to touch his chest and shoulders in order to put him in the right spot.
When she finally turned to John, he smiled warmly, chuckling as she subconsciously rolled her eyes a bit at Roger. She took his hand, and he hoped she couldn’t feel his pulse going at the speed of light. She placed him next to the Blonde, looking grateful for his ability to tell right from left. After arranging Freddie, she played with the lighting a bit, moving most of it directly above their heads.
“Perfect…” She mumbled to herself as she held up her camera to her eye.
“I know I am.” Roger gave her a wink, to which she ignored.
The shutter flipped as it went off, and she took a few practice shots before walking over to brush John’s short bangs from his face. His skin tingled where her fingers were. She smelled like oranges. It was oddly intimate, and he almost got lost in the sharp concentration of her eyes.
“This light is nice on you,” her words were hushed and mumbled, “It shows your eyelashes against your cheeks…” She gave him a shy smile before turning away, hiding her blush as she fiddled with the buttons on her camera. “All of you look up a bit, if you don’t mind? Except you Brian. You can look straight a head.” She made one last change, crossing Freddie’s arms over his chest, artfully.
“Looking killer, Queen”, she teased. John snorted and Brian shook his head.
“Not one of your best, darling.” Freddie chuckled and gave a smug look to the camera.
“Aw, Really? I didn’t think it was that bad. Deaky liked it. Didn’t you, Deaks?”
He grinned, “Comedy gold.”
Freddie smirked muttering to himself, “I don’t think it’s the joke he fancies, darling.”
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“You’re very talented.” John spoke quietly as he helped her roll up the black canvas backdrop.
“And you’re very sweet.” She smiled at the ground as she worked.
“I’m quite sorry about Roger.”
“Cheeky thing, isn’t he?” She laughed a bit and he smiled.
“More so around…people like you.”
She paused, meeting his eyes. A lock of hair had fallen into her face, “People like me?”
He went a little pale, realizing the hole he’d dug himself into. “….beautiful girls, I mean.”
She tried to fight her grin, biting her lower lip, again. “And how do you act around beautiful girls, John?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
His nose went pink. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
The backdrop had almost been forgotten, but Deaky turned back to it, unable to continue meeting her eyes.
“You’re a bit cheeky too, aren’t you?” She commented, returning to the canvas.
“Only around cheeky girls.”
She giggled, “Well now I’m confused. Am I a cheeky girl or a beautiful girl?”
He shrugged, “Both.”
She laughed and tied off the end, standing. He couldn’t help but run his eyes along her bare legs up to the hem of her skirt. She gave a sly half smile at his wide eyes, and he knew she had to have caught him staring. She turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder in a way that almost seemed like an invitation to stare for as long as he’d like. Tying his end off, he stood, following her sheepishly.
“I’m curious as to what you’d think of me, though.”
She flipped around, taking slow steps forward until the were face to face,“I think lots of you, John Deacon.” She smiled, teasingly.
“All good things I’d hope?” He could feel her body warmth.
“Well, of course. I’m starting to think you don’t have a bad bone in your body, love.” He tried to relax his muscles. He could smell some sort of orange on her clothes, again.
He paused, grinning, “I’d be happy to prove you wrong.”
“Would you now?”
“Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we?” She laughed breathily. Suddenly the door swung open. The two jumped, taking a step back from each other as Freddie swept into the room.
“Y/N love, how do you plan on getting all of this back up to your flat? Didn’t you say the elevator was down, yesterday?” His gaze fell to the heavy, rolled backdrop.
“I got up a bit earlier this morning and took two trips out to the parking lot. I can manage that again. It’s no issue.”
“Yes, it’s an issue! If I find out you’ve fallen down three levels of cement staircase, I will never forgive myself.” She grabbed the tie of the backdrop, trying to hide her struggle to pull its weight up off the floor. John grabbed the middle, tugging it the rest of the way up. She gave him a grateful smile.
“You’ll go with her and help, Deaky? It shouldn’t be as hard with two. You could ride with her and I’ll pick you up after I go get changed.” Freddie gave him a wink while her back was turned, and nudged him towards her.
“Um, yeah, that’d be fine. As long as she doesn’t mind driving me.”
He caught her gaze again, pausing.
“Don’t feel like you have to.” She assured him as she slung the canvas over her shoulder, wincing a bit at the weight on the strap.
“What are friends for?” He mumbled, smirking to her as he took the strap from her hand, lifting the roll off of her and onto his back.
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Her car looked the way he might have pictured it. She had a wide array of colorful, oddly placed bumper stickers, all stuck to the car’s shotty paint job. It was an old car. Even Roger would have been hesitant of it, but he shrugged to himself and helped her push her equipment into the trunk.
“Deaky,” she unlatched the front door, giving the roof a loving pat, “Meet Apollo.” He grinned, folding himself into the passenger seat. His legs were a bit too long for the car, but there was something about Apollo that he quite enjoyed. He was more surrounded now in that pleasant orange-y-ness he’d been able to smell on her sweater. The backseat was stacked with papers and tubes of paint. There was even a book of pressed flowers.
“She’s not the prettiest thing in the world, but she runs like a dream.” He laughed, and the radio flipped on with the car, startling him. The volume was up far too loud, and he jumped as she scrambled to turn it down. “Good Lord! I’m sorry! I forgot to turn it down! They were playing Billy Joel this morning! It was all quite exciting!”
He giggled, as she flipped on her blinker and turned out into the street, “It sounds thrilling!” He chimed as she hit the brakes just a bit too hard. He laughed again and she pointed across him through the window.
“Do you see that graffiti over there near the bus stop?”
He nodded, squinting as the colorful mess came into view. He’d always liked the way it looked.
“Fred and I did that back when we were in Uni.”
His eyes widened, “Did you really!?”
“Yeah! We got caught halfway through…Never got to finish!”
He studied it from afar, “God, is there anything you can’t do?” She paused.
“Dance.”
“What?”
“I can’t dance.”
“But, dancing is very easy! You’ve just got to move. How ever you’d like to.”
“You’re forgetting the part where I make a fool of myself.”
“I don’t believe that for a second Miss. L/N” He gave a sly smile.
She laughed little, “Well, I’d be happy to prove you wrong.”
John blushed at the echo of his earlier words, “Would you now?”
“But I’ll need someone dancing with me.”
His blush deepened, and he swallowed. “Well surely we can find someone…”
Before they made it back to the complex, it started pouring. By the time they had gotten her equipment inside, they were soaked. She called to him, but her voice was muffled from the downpour.
“What!?”
She ran to him, taking his hands in hers,“When’s the last time you went jumping in puddles?”
He laughed, “I can’t remember!”
“Well, that won’t do at all!”
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After a sufficient amount of playing in the rain, he followed her up to her flat, their hair dripping.
“Oh, you must be freezing, Deaky. I’ve got dry clothes for you inside!”
Her flat was warm and welcoming. The living room looked much more normal, and it seemed she’d been pushing the paintings more into the kitchen.
“I’ll put on some tea, love." she started to wring out her hair into the kitchen sink before running into her room, where Freddie had gone when they’d visited before. She returned holding a stack of clothes.
"I got them from the dryer. They should be warm for you.”
“Thank you.” He mumbled, and she pointed over to the hallway.
“Change anywhere you’d like.”
He chuckled, “Anywhere?” She shrugged mischeviously, and he smirked to her as he made his way into her bathroom.
He was saddened as he unfolded the clothes she’d left him. The clothes themselves were not necessarily the problem. The stretched fabric was a little loose around his thin frame, but they were perfectly comfortable. He was more concerned with the fact that most girls don’t just keep men’s tshirts and pajama pants laying around. Especially ones that were obviously far too big to fit said girl. The fabric didn’t even smell orangey, like the rest of her. Instead, they reminded him faintly of some kind of cologne. She had to have had a boyfriend. He should have seen it from the start. He combed his fingers through his wet hair and frowned, unsure of how to face her now that he’d realized he hadn’t much of a chance.
A loud crash came from the kitchen, and he heard her squeal. He ran out into the living room, fairly concerned until he saw that she’d only her dropped her kettle whilst pulling it from a shelf. She sat on her counter top, and he giggled as she realized she’d been trying to compensate for her height.
“I couldn’t reach.” She whimpered in explanation as he exhaled through a smile. He trotted over to the kitchen fished the kettle from in between two easles, setting it by the stove.
“Aren’t you a dear!” She sat back down against the counter, letting her ankles dangle off the ground.
She wore a dry pair of shorts with a loose tshirt now, and she looked to have run a brush through her hair. Her cheeks were still rosy from the cold.
“Do they fit you alright?” Her shorts rode up a bit as she hopped down and pulled a tea bag from a jar. He tried to ignore this, and grabbed the kettle again, filling it at the sink.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good! I was worried they’d be much too big.”
He flipped on the eye of the stove and set the pot down, letting her drop in the little paper bag. She caught his glance, noticing he was a bit more solemn than before.
“Hey…”
He looked to her, brows raised.
“These?” She plucked at his shirt collar, “They’re my brother’s. He stays here sometimes.”
A wave of relief hit him, though he tried to keep cool.
“Thank God.” He sighed, and she chuckled.
“Did you think I was messing with you for fun? I wouldn’t do that.” Her voice was soothing to him as she lidded her kettle.
“I know, it’s just…” His voice weakened and he trailed off. “Others would…And have.”
Her face softened she tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, finding his eyes with hers, “Well, if that’s the case, then I’m not like the others.”
He smiled, “Don’t I know it."
He thought he saw her eyes glance to his lips, but he was quickly yanked back to earth by the screeching of the kettle whistle. She cleared her throat a bit, pulling two cups from the cabinet.
"How do you take your tea?”
“Just sugar, please.”
She nodded, “Would you…um…would you like to put on a record while I get you a cup?”
“Sure.” The corners of his mouth turned upwards as he stepped into the living room again and over to her old Victrola. She had more records than he’d ever seen in his life. Aretha Franklin. The Beatles. Janis Joplin. Everyone. His eyes fell to an Elton John album and he skimmed over the track list before slipping it out of the sleeve and placing it on the spindle. He counted a few tracks ahead in the impressions pressed in the vinyl, adjusting the needle to play his favorite of the songs.
She padded into the room, her socks slipping around on the carpet. Setting the mugs down on the coffee table, she sat down next to him with her legs folded. A few piano notes drifted into the air, and he watched in admiration as she closed her eyes, floating on the back of the tune.
It’s a little bit funny
this feeling inside.
I’m not one of those
who can easily hide.
Before he could think, the words had left him. “Dance with me.” It was almost a whisper. Her eyes opened and she gave a warm smile.
“Is this where I’m supposed to make a fool of myself?”
“Well a promise is a promise, love.” He stood, holding out an arm. She took it, standing with him. She felt herself getting flustered, where she hadn’t been all night. He must have noticed, because he gave her hand a squeeze. She laughed at herself.
“I don’t know how to-”
“I’ll show you. Come’re. It’s easy.” She took a step closer. “Perfect. You’re halfway, there… Now if you’d like…” He took her arms, moving them to circle his neck. She took a slow breath, her eyes not leaving his. “You can rest your arms there.” He smiled at her in the most inviting way.
I know it’s not much
But it’s the best I can do.
My gift is my song
And this one’s for you.
“Would you mind…if I…” She felt his fingers ghost over her hips.
“Not at all.” She could barely fight the grin creeping up onto her face. He wrapped his arms around her waist securely, and she felt a twinge in her chest.
“That’s it, love. Just relax. You can trust me. I won’t let you fall.”
And you can tell everybody
This is your song
It may be quite simple but
Now that it’s done…
Their noses nudged together, and Y/N swallowed, thickly.
“Now what?”
Deaky shrugged a little. “Now we do whatever you want.” He paused in thought, “I could dip you…or I could spin you…”
“That’s a no go on the spinning. I get seasick.” She mumbled, teasingly.
He hummed a laugh, “Well then, I guess…I’ll just have to stand here and hold you.” He swayed to the tune, and she could feel herself melting into his touch. She rested her head against the worn fabric of his t-shirt, letting her eyes close as she toyed with the fabric of his collar. He leaned his head against hers, deciding that the orange scent must be something in her shampoo, as her hair smelt of summer time and the rain.
…I hope you don’t mind.
I hope you don’t mind
That I put down in words…
He could have stayed there forever with her head on his shoulder. He hummed along to the tune, muttering the words to her.
How wonderful life is, while you’re in the world.
He could feel her smile against his collarbone.
“Want to know a secret?” He mumbled into her hairline.
“What’s that?”
“I can’t sing. Not at all. I’m horrible.” She laughed, breathlessly. “I can’t sing but if I could sing to you right now, I would. And it’d be lovely. I promise.”
“You sounded nice a moment ago. You about put me to sleep right here on your chest.”
He chuckled, “Maybe you’re just tired, huh?”
“Couldn’t be” She argued, fighting a yawn. “Is Fred coming to pick you up? Because, he might have to pry you away from me.”
“Doesn’t look like he is, does it? I suppose he thought I’d end up staying the night…”
“Would you like to stay the night?” She whispered hopefully, though she was terrified of his potential rejection.
“Only if you’d want me to…”
She grinned, “I’d want you to.”
“Then absolutely.” He grinned, “Do you think Roger will be mad at me if he finds out I’ve stayed over with you?”
“Something tells me he might have it coming. Hell, we could go all out and give you a few well placed love bites where he could see them.”
She trailed her index finger down the column of his throat, and he smirked, meeting her eyes. They were so torturously close. It seemed their lips centimeters from touching.
“And what activities could possibly result in love bites, Miss L/N?”
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”
He was absolutely aching to feel his lips on hers. The music slowed as the song came to an end. The two stayed silent for a long time, feeling one another’s breath against their lips.
Her words were whispered. “Would…would you like to kiss me, Deaky?”
“I think you’re well aware that I would, love.”
Her heart lept, and her eyes fell to the pout of his lips. “…Please…”
And before he could stop himself, he was kissing her, as slowly and sweetly as he could manage. Her arms tightened around him as she welcomed his lips with hers. Her fingers laced into his hair, and his breath hitched as she ran her tongue along his lower lip. He squeezed her hips and the fabric of her tshirt shifted under his hands. She hummed against him, and he tugged at her lower lip gently with his teeth as they parted for breath. He pushed some hair back out of her eyes. “I actually think you’re quite good at dancing.” She laughed against his lips and he cut her off with another kiss. She hummed into his touch and inhaled sharply as he grabbed at her shirt. The song came to an end and the stereo went fuzzy as the needle reached the center of the record. John pressed one last peck to the corner of her mouth as they slowed.
“The music…the music’s stopped.” She said breathlessly.
“Well…I’d love to get you to make me some more…”
*************************
The next morning, Y/N woke to John lightly grazing his fingers her upper arm. “Wake up, dove. We’ve got to be quick before the sun comes up.” She groaned, stretching her arms above her head. She couldn’t help but smile at him. He trailed his fingertips over the purple marks his lips and teeth had left across the sensitive skin of her collarbones the night before.
“What on earth are you talking about, Deacon?” He giggled, running his fingers through her hair, lovingly.
“Well, We’ve got to get a move on!” He kissed her forehead sweetly before grabbing a plastic bag from her bedside table. “I got up a few hours ago and ran to the grocery.” She frowned, propping herself up on her elbow.
“What? Why?”
He pulled a fresh can of spray paint from the bag, giving it a shake, “I believe there’s a mural over by the bus stop that you’ve yet to finish.”
8.7k+ words (and thanks @lovehelpmewrite for sending this gif!)
LOADS of fluff!! Seriously, you might want to have tissues on hand!
There may or may not be some light smut…what can I say I’m a people pleaser ;)
NOTES:
It really hurts to say it, but the next chapter of A Simple Favor after this one will be the last. I cannot thank you all enough for the feedback and unwavering support you’ve given me and given this story. Many of you have been here from the start and I love seeing your URLs in the notes each week.
I’ll stop now so I don’t cry, but do know I have a sappier end-of-story post coming up when we do get to the finale!
DECEMBER 31 – NEW YEAR’S EVE – 34.5 WEEKS
There was always a sort of emptiness that seemed to settle over the world as holiday season drew to a close; New Year’s Eve was like a last hurrah. The snow was turning gray on the curbs, and normally at this time of year you’d feel like you had nothing to look forward to until the sun grew warm again and the ice melted. However, with the start the new year, the end of your pregnancy was drawing closer by the second, and the anticipation was killing you.
New Year’s Eve was usually a frivolous affair for you; in years past, you always either threw a party yourself, or went out with your girlfriends and spent the holiday at whatever bar charged the least for cover. You’d find a midnight kiss, and if you couldn’t, you’d kiss your bottle of champagne, but this year was much simpler and, you decided, much more special. You were spending it at your apartment, but with much less company than in years past.
I know I told this story before but last year I was having complications with a surgery and I just broke down in a public place and I was trying to gather myself, sitting and leaning on a wall when this girl in cowboy boots approached me and sat down and she asked what was wrong and I told her it was medical issues and she said “I understand, I have to have my foot amputated next week” and it shocked me out of crying and I was like “wow that sucks!” And she said “yeah.” And then she just touched my arm so tenderly and told me “I promise you that this problem will have its place, and everything is going to work out.” And the way she said it just made me really believe her. She said. “We’re just gonna have to cowgirl up.” And then she stood up and walked away and I’d call that a genuine encounter with an angel but the truth is there is a lot of goodness right here on earth in humanity and it’s shining and pure.
THAT REALLY STRUCK ME because I’ve always hated the tired rhetoric of “this happened for a reason” and this feels like a more genuine, comforting take on that. Not “it happened for a reason,” but “this will find its spot in your life and your future that it fits into in a way that will eventually work out even though it sucks that it happened.” Love that.
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